I am a Mongol. My father was fear and anger at the world in which I
lived. My mother was the S.C.A., who walked the paths of strange freedom before
me. I cannot hold up the mirror of honor without the reflection of being born of
woman, and the self-knowledge of being subject to the errors of my kind.

I am a Mongol. Proud, abrasive, but able to cry tears for that which
has gone by or which will never be except that I make it come to pass. I
remember the stories of my people and take glory in that which is one with nature
and take shame in that which ravished the souls of my brothers and sisters. I
will partake of bread and salt with my brothers and sisters and I will give
service to the Mongol. The path that I seek is simple, clean and straight.

I am a Mongol. I know that no path is as it seems. Therefore, I will
accept from the Earth the balm of the cleansing coolness of water, clean
air, the freedom that responsibility gives and - finally - the two edged gift
of comforting fire as my right. But I will remember that these are gifts.

I am a Mongol. I will not take by right or force or by dark pathways
that which I would not give.

I am a Mongol. I will not bend knee to crown; but in turn, will not
seek to cast down that which has been won in honor, nor - except in
wholehearted jest- will I make light of that in which others believe.

I am a Mongol. I will remember that those who walk beyond our ring of
firelight, so named Ch'agua, are to be respected as well as their facings
and beliefs. Nor will I trample their Holy Ground.

I am a Mongol. I will defend the Mongol Nation by word and deed
without fear or anger, for they are the death of thought.